


Loyalty

by Lakritzwolf



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Durincest, Hurt Kíli, M/M, Protective Fíli, Thorin is a grumpy ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10019867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakritzwolf/pseuds/Lakritzwolf
Summary: This is for silva-13, the prize from the WinterFRE2017.FiKi hurt/comfort, where Kili desperately tries to please Thorin, yet Thorin only sees Fili. But Fili will always be on his brother’s side.I hope you'll like this!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silva_13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silva_13/gifts).



The first time it happens is just before they are declared battle-ready. Or that is, Fili is declared battle-ready. 

It shocks them both. All the time, they had expected to be declared battle-ready together. And now Thorin declares Fili battle-ready, and tells Kili he has to stay in the forges for at least another year.

“But Uncle,” Fili says, almost unable to tear his eyes away from his brother and his facial expression that is a mix of hurt and shame. “We trained together since we were old enough to hold swords. He is as good as I am.”  
“He is not ready,” Thorin says sternly, and both Fili and Kili know this tone and that look in his eyes. 

His decision is final. Fili starts training in the halls of warriors, and Kili has to return to the forges. 

That evening, Fili has his arms around his brother who is valiantly fighting his tears. Fili understands. The humiliation has to burn like fire. And not only did Thorin humiliate him like that, it happened in front of the whole family and a group of friends. 

Fili almost hurts as much as his brother does when, the next morning, they part ways for the first time since they left their mother’s nest after growing out of their dwarfling boots. Kili’s steps are slow and heavy, and Fili has a hard time focussing on the lessons he is being given. 

He spends a few weeks working out with several types of weapons until his trainers and mentors have established that he is best suited for twin blades and nimble enough for a few throwing blades. So Fili goes back into the forges, for the last time, to make his weapons. 

Kili tries to avoid him the day he comes back. His face is covered in soot, and his hair is in a messy bun and sooty as well. Fili tries to smile, but Kili doesn’t even look at his older brother. 

With a sigh, Fili dons the heavy leather apron and sets to work.

* * *

It takes Fili two weeks to finish his weapons. Two finely crafted blades and a handful of throwing knives. And, what he is especially proud of, a pair of throwing axes, small enough to be carried in holsters attached to his boots. 

His teachers are impressed. They are also impressed when he tells them the idea had been Kili’s. Fili tells Thorin of the ingenuity, but Thorin has no admiration for the idea. 

“Long range weapons are not the way of honourable dwarven warriors,” he says.

Fili sighs and gives up. 

That evening he holds Kili again, his Kili, his beloved baby brother who is no baby anymore but a proud and fearsome warrior. If only Thorin could see what kind of dwarf Kili has become. But Thorin turns a blind eye, and Fili has no idea why he does that.

* * *

Fili knows what Kili does between leaving the forges at night and coming to bed. Sometimes he is there with him, in the dark unused training halls, and it is just the two of them and a torch. Fili knows what kind of warrior Kili is, that what Thorin calls gangly is maybe not desirable for a dwarf, but it gives him an extraordinary reach. A huge advantage. 

They spar every evening, alone and in the near darkness of a single torch. They use the wooden training weapons, and they keep at it until they are both drenched in sweat. 

Their mother knows why they come home late so often, but she says nothing. She keeps the food warm in a pot or a kettle close to the hearth in the kitchen. She never breathes a word to Thorin either. Dis has little say in matters of war and warriors, and as a sister she has exhausted all means of persuading her brother to see reason, so she supports her sons in the only way she can. 

Fili watches his brother work himself half to death, desperate as he is to build more muscles to resemble the picture of a good dwarven warrior. It’s not fair, Fili thinks, because the way Kili’s body is built he will never be as broad and compact as Fili, or other dwarven warriors they know. He focuses on building strength and muscle and ignores his biggest advantage, his reach, and of course that leads to disaster. 

When Thorin finally agrees to give Kili a chance in the training grounds to prove himself battle-ready, he fails. Strength alone does not make a warrior, brute muscles alone do not win a battle. 

Kili all but runs out of the halls after Thorin tells him he has to do better than that. 

Fili approaches his uncle and doesn’t bother to hide his anger. 

“Uncle, why can’t you give him the chance to learn? If you keep him away from the training halls, how is he supposed to learn?”  
“I do not keep him away,” Thorin replies. “He is clearly not ready. You saw how clumsy he was today.”  
“Uncle...”  
“Enough. Just because he is your brother does not mean he gets special treatment. Do your lessons, and Kili does his.”

Fili is fuming, but he can do nothing. He has no say in the matter. His only consolation is that Dwalin and Balin aren’t happy with their leader’s decision either. He hopes that maybe one of these days, one of the two might speak up on Kili’s behalf. He refuses to hold his breath, though. 

Dwalin can see his anger, and knows the reason for it. Soon after Thorin has left the halls, he lowers his weapons and indicates towards the door with a twitch of his head. 

“Go after him, lad.”  
Fili lowers his blades and sighs. “It’s not fair,” he says. “I sparred with Kili for a long time. He is strong and agile, and he can do so much better than what he showed today. He just tried to do what Thorin expected him to do, and it went so wrong because that’s not what suits him.”  
“I know,” Dwalin replies. “The lad has speed and reach. Let me handle Thorin. You go and comfort your brother.”

Fili is grateful beyond words that he has finally an ally. Yet no matter where he looks, Kili is nowhere to be found. By the time he gets home he is so worried and afraid for his brother he is almost in tears, and then he finds him in his bed, curled up under the blanket. 

“Kili...” He sits down on the bed with a sigh. “Nadadith...”  
“Go away.”  
“No. My place is with you. And I’ve had enough. Thorin can’t force me into the halls of training any longer. You’re my brother, the age gap between us is ridiculously small, and you should have been declared battle-ready with me. Apart from that, Dwalin told me today he has had enough of this nonsense, as well. He said he will talk to Thorin.”  
“It will only make it worse.” Kili’s voice is heavy.  
“I don’t think so. When a seasoned warrior like Dwalin tells Thorin you’re ready then he will listen.”

Kili finally peels himself out of the blanket, but his eyes are still full of doubt. Fili pulls his brother into a firm embrace. They hold on for a while and watch the flames in the fireplace die down into glowing embers, drawing comfort from each other’s presence and closeness.

* * *

Whatever Dwalin said to Thorin seems to have worked. He finally declares Kili battle-ready, almost a year after Fili, and the two brothers can finally train together again. 

It surprises no one when Kili’s weapon turns out to be a two-handed broadsword. This weapon is not Dwalin’s expertise, but he knows another warrior who wields a similar blade. He is a veteran, close to Balin in age, but he is still able to give the younger warrior his lessons. The basics are all that he needs, anyway. How to step. How to not overreach. To use the length of the blade to his advantage all the time. 

The rest is practice. And Fili and Kili practice a lot. They spar against each other, and side by side against others. They are a team. They are a unit. Their styles and moves are perfect supplements to each other’s. They move like a single fighter. A deadly combination of Fili’s strength and Kili’s reach. 

Kili tries the throwing weapons, but finds they don’t really suit him. But he is one of the settlement’s best hunters, and his aim with the bow is deadly accurate. 

Again, it is Dwalin who sees the potential, and in the weapons chambers he finds a sturdy recurve bow, a bit shorter than a hunting bow but no less deadly. It is clearly not for hunting but for war, and its reach and power impresses all three of them. Kili shoots with a bodkin arrowhead, and pierces a solid breastplate of forged iron from thirty yards away.

Kili does not need long to adjust to this new bow, and once he is used to the different angle and the higher poundage, his aim is as deadly as with the hunting bow. He picks off the helmets from five training dummies in a row, and each helmet is pierced by the heavy, triangular bodkin as if it were parchment. 

Thorin watches the performance with a frown on his face. It deepens the moment Kili looks at him, and Fili can see the smile on his brother’s face vanish; it melts away like snow on a hot stone. 

“Bows are for hunting,” Thorin says in what is almost a growl. “No dwarven warrior worth his salt would use that dishonourable a weapon. It is the weapon of cowards.”

“Uncle!” Kili grits his teeth. “I am not a coward!”  
“Then you should not choose the weapon of...”  
“Thorin,” Dwalin says. “Don’t be a fool. A ranged weapon can make the difference between life and death and you know that well.”  
“For defence, yes.”

“And who’s to say that’s not exactly what Kili will do?” Fili is unable to hold his silence. “He is proficient with his sword and...”  
“Then he shall train with his sword,” Thorin says. “Bows are not for war.”

Fili is fuming. He casts his uncle a look that can be called nothing but hateful and spins around to follow his brother who has stormed out of the training hall. 

That evening Thorin comes to visit the brothers in their home. Dis welcomes her brother with ale, but Thorin declines.

“I need to speak to your sons,” he says.

Fili and Kili look up at him, Kili with gritted teeth and Fili with a death glare.

“If you want to be a warrior then you have to act like one,” Thorin says to Kili. “Storming out on me like a cranky youngling is not going to help your cause. If you want to be taken seriously and treated like a grown dwarf and warrior, then stop acting like a cub.”

Fili gets up and meets his uncle’s eyes. “He is not a cub, and he is not cranky!” He crosses his arms. “For years he has done nothing but desperately trying to please you and all you have for him is scorn! What has he done to deserve that?”  
“Maybe he is no longer a youngling in years, but he has to mature and grow up if he wants to be treated like an adult,” Thorin replies. “He is still too reckless and thoughtless.

Kili get sup, very slowly, and leaves the kitchen. Fili gives his uncle a hateful stare and follows him. As he closes the door to his room he can hear their mother’s voice, and while he can’t understand her words he can hear she is not pleased. 

Fili has no idea what to do. Quite obviously, Thorin is wilfully ignoring all of Kili’s achievements and merits. He apparently can’t see that Kili is no longer a youngling but a grown warrior. Fili sits down on Kili’s bed and drapes an arm around his shoulder.

“I have no idea why Thorin is acting like that,” Fili says to his brother. “He is literally the only one who refuses to see the advantages of your weapons and downplays everything you have achieved. Please...” He sighs and touches Kili’s temple with his forehead. “The problem is Thorin, not you.”  
“It doesn’t matter,” Kili replies darkly. “It’s his words that count, not yours, or mother’s or even Dwalin’s.”

Fili leans back. “Do my words not matter to you?” He asks gently.  
Now Kili looks up at him. There is a small, soft smile on his face. “They do,” he says. “But they don’t matter to anyone else.”  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Fili replies. “But I understand that you feel nothing but bleak despair now, and humiliation. But I know what a dwarf you are, and what a warrior. There is no one I’d rather have at my side and at my back than you.”

Kili’s smile widens, and they embrace. Their arms around each other they remain like this, and Fili knows that one of these days he will have to face Thorin down because he can no longer watch how his uncle puts his brother down. 

Yet whatever Dis said to her brother has made an impression. Fili knows that Dwalin and Balin had words with his uncle too, and if Thorin now believes their words or just acts like he does, Fili neither knows nor cares. And even if Thorin does not acknowledge Kili’s progress, his performance, his strength, speed or agility, at least he has stopped humiliating him. 

But first when his nephews win a tournament, as a pair and a unit, does Thorin grudgingly admit that Kili has done well. Fili’s challenging glare might have kept him from saying that Fili did better. Because that is simply not true.

That night they come home, slightly drunk after the celebration of their victory. 

They stumble through the kitchen and apologize profusely to their mother who stands in the doorway of her bedroom in her nightgown and with her hair undone. Yet Dis smiles because she recognises her sons’ victorious mood and understands their desire to celebrate. She closes her bedroom door and the two brothers stumble onward into their room.

They still share the same room even though they’re grown now, and it’s not because there is too little space in their dwelling but because they don’t want to sleep apart. 

So they stumble past the bed, and Kili loses his balance, and because he is holding on to Fili’s arm they both go down and land on Kili’s bed in a tumble of limbs.

They snort and giggle, but suddenly they look at each other, faces inches apart, and the smiles vanish from their lips.

It is then, at that moment, drunk with ale and their victory, in the safety of their room, that they both realise they are much closer than brothers. Maybe closer than they should be. But as they close their eyes to take the last step, neither of them finds himself able to care. 

Many people in the mountain have wondered – and still do – about their relationship and admire their closeness. It can be that a lot of these people would frown at the path their relationship has taken, but that is none of their concern. 

It was never Fili or Kili, not since the day of Kili’s birth. It was always Fili and Kili. They have played together, eaten together, slept together and even taken baths together for all of their lives, and are so familiar with each other as they can possibly be. And yet, what happens this night in front of the blazing fire is new, and unfamiliar, but it feels so right that neither of them questions it. 

Hands touch skin laid bare, reverently, almost in awe, skin that they have looked at for decades yet never touched. But now they let it happen, and maybe they both had the urge to do something like this for a long time and neither of them dared.

Now they are past daring, because this isn’t a dare, this is the way it’s supposed to be. Fili and Kili. With their limbs entangled and illuminated by firelight dancing in flickering orange across their skin they kiss, hands roaming each other’s skin in places that they hitherto never dared to dream of would ever be touched by the other.

When they wake up the next morning they are both in Kili’s bed, naked under the same blanket, and for a moment they tense, but only until they look at each other. Then they smile, because this is the way they want it, the way they feel it’s supposed to be.

“Thorin won’t be pleased,” Kili says after their lips part.  
“Do I care?” Fili asks with a frown.  
“Maybe you should,” his brother replies. “Thorin has made you his heir. So you will have to make heirs of your own.”  
“Thorin is in his prime,” Fili says as his fingers trail down Kili’s cheeks. “I have a long time yet to figure out a solution to that. And in the meantime...” He pauses and smiles.  
Kili pokes his finger into one of the dimples. “In the meantime?”  
“In the meantime, you are the only thing that matters,” Fili says and closes his eyes as he leans closer.

* * *

It is Fili and Kili, never Fili or Kili. By the time the moment has come no one, not even Thorin, would dare to think they could be separated again, even if no one else knows how deep their relationship really runs. 

They travel together, side by side. Sleeping side by side, eating side by side, and fighting side by side.

And in the end, there is only one thing to do.  
Only one thing there is to say. 

“I belong with my brother.”


End file.
